Whoe loved us all tenderlie as wee had benne his owne,
And was verye carefull of oure education,
Whose love so mee was diverse wayes showne,
And I of the saime had daylie probation,
And by this maye appeare of whiche I make narration.
Withe his owne chaine of golde hee would mee oftene decke
Whiche made me a proud boye to weare about my necke.
As on a tyme this chayne about my necke I did weare,
And going to an orcharde some apples to gett,
When clymbing a high tree, as one without feare,
The boughe then brake, whereon my foote I sett,
And downwarde I slipt, but was caught in a nett.
In the tree I was hanged faste by the chayne,
So desyre of my pride was cause of my payne.
But was not suffered there longe to hang,
But was nere strangled or I was taken downe,
For there I strugled with suche a deadlie pange;
My mother shee frighted and fell in a sowne,
And griefe made my father likewise to frowne.
But my reviving, there sorrowes over caste;
Then they rejoyeste sayinge, "my destinie was paste."
Thus carelesse a tyme with them I lived at pleasure,
Surfetted with self will and with fonde delite;
I knew no golden meane, nor never kepte a measure,
But like a kyndlie beare gan tymelie to byte.
Even then I harborde envye and sucked despite;
And pride at that instante tooke so deepe a roote,
That humilitie for ever was troden under foote.
In myne noneage I was when my father dyde,
Philip Draycott, of Paynslie hee did me obtayne,
Whoe had appoynted me his doughter for my bryde,
And in whose house a space I did remayne;
There suckte I pleasure that proved to my payne;
There was I misled in papistre my soul to wounde;
There was I corrupted made rotten and unsounde.
There, even there awhile, I spente my youthfull tyme,
There was I lulled in securitie faste asleepe,
Then was I frollicke, there was I in my pryme,
In jollitie then I laught, but never thought to weepe;
My witts were moste fynne and conceits verye depe.
But oh Paynslie! Paynslie! I may thee curse;
Where nature made me ill, education made me worse.
For by nature I was with papistrie infected,
But might have beene restrayned, had it pleased God;
My father and myne eame they weare suspected;
They lived with there censcience wherein I was odd,
Therefore was beaten with a more sharper rodd;
There conscience they kepte, & ruled it by reason;
Livinge like subjectes, and still detested treason.
My father-in-lawe still ledd me to what I was inclined;
I meane for my conscience, no farther he coulde deale;
My mayntnance sufficient to content my mynde,
So that all this, whiche I tasted, nought but weale,
But could not be contente, which I muste nowe reveale.
My fynne head was desyrouse to studye the lawe,
In attainge whereof I proved my selfe a dawe.
And for that cause forthwith I to London wente,
Where in Lyncolns Inne a student I became;
And there some part of my flittinge tyme I spente,
But to bee a good lawyer my mynde coulde not frame;
I addicted was to pleasure and given so to game;
But to the theater and curtayne woulde often resorte,
Where I mett companyons fittinge my disporte.
Companyons, quothe you, I had companyons in deede,
Suche as in youthe with me weare well content to drawe;
Lyncked so in myscheife, wherein wee did excede,
We cared not for order nor paste of reasons lawe;
Of God, nor of good man, wee stoode in little awe.
Wee paste the bounds of modestie, and lived without shame,
Wee spotted our conscience, and spoiled our good name.